Pastor Samson's Secret Sins: The Story Of A Strong Man of God With A Weakness For Women

by Liberty Gaines

  *

  After Samson had dropped the bag of groceries in the trunk of the car and climbed in the front seat he sighed. The news that Jimmy Fox had escaped from prison and was armed and dangerous was unnerving. It had followed him all day and since it was now dark the thought was even more unsettling. Jimmy Fox was a bitter, hateful man without scruples and Precious was right. It was certainly possible that Jimmy Fox would contact him. Samson sighed again and lifted up his heart to God in a prayer.

  “God, I want—”

  “Still praying, Reverend, I thought God left you long ago?”

  A dark voice cut through the silence and Samson froze in his seat.

  “W-what?” He turned in alarm and stared into the bloodshot eyes of a lanky man. He had a haunted look and his hair was greasy and unkempt.

  There was no mistake possible. Samson knew this man.

  “Jimmy! Jimmy Fox! W-what in the world are you doing in my car?”

  Jimmy grinned. “Nice to meet you too, Reverend. Please be quiet as the police are looking for me.”

  Samson swallowed hard and cast Jimmy an angry look. “Listen, Jimmy. You got to give yourself up. You and your buddy wounded a prison guard. You are only making matters worse for yourself.”

  Jimmy sneered. “Give myself up? Are you nuts? I just got out.”

  As he leaned forward Samson wrinkled his nose. He smelled a mix of sweat and garlic. “You broke into my car, Jimmy.”

  “What do you care? I am not going back to that hell-hole.”

  Samson gritted his teeth. “What makes you think I am not going to the police?”

  Jimmy laughed. “Don’t pretend you are one of the good guys now, buddy. I know what you’re made of. You are just like me.” He put his hand on Samson’s shoulder, but Samson recoiled and leaned away from Jimmy. “I am not your buddy.”

  “Man, we need each other,” said Jimmy.

  “I have changed,” Samson said. “I don’t want that old life any longer.”

  “Nonsense,” Jimmy answered. “A leopard cannot change his spots. And neither can you. But listen…” Jimmy lowered his voice, “I have a plan and you need to help.”

  “I don’t want to hear this Jimmy,” Samson said. “Leave my car.”

  “Yes, you do want to hear this,” Jimmy continued and acted as if he had not heard Samson. “We’re going to rob Delilah and then we burn her and her miserable cabin down to the ground.”

  “What?” Samson was incredulous. “You are going to do what?”

  “You heard me,” Jimmy answered without emotion. “Delilah caused us both a lot of pain. She framed you and you, in your drunken stupor, ratted on me. You think I will forget that? It’s payback time, buddy.” Jimmy’s face held an ominous expression as he wrinkled his nose. “And you…” he said while his eyes darkened, “…are going to help me.”

  “No, Jimmy…that is the most absurd thing I have ever heard. I won’t do it. Get out of the car!” Samson felt his anger rising.

  Jimmy’s eyes were cold as he stared for a moment at Samson. “You disappoint me, man. In that case, I will have to play this game a little different.” He opened his coat and Samson’s heart skipped a beat. There under his coat Jimmy held a gun. The light of the streetlight near the car shimmered on the dark metal.

  Samson stared at it and shook his head. “Jimmy…please, stop this foolishness.”

  But Jimmy trained the gun at him and Samson knew Jimmy was dead serious.“Start the car, buddy. I believe you know the way.”

  “Maybe she’s not there,” Samson tried in desperation.

  “O, yes…She sure is,” retorted Jimmy. “I don’t usually have my information wrong.”

  Samson’s heart pounded as he started the car. God, please guide me. Deliver me from this lunatic and help me not to let You down.

  “What’s that?” Jimmy asked with a demanding voice.

  “I am praying, Jimmy. I have come to believe prayer is the real strength of my life.” A thought crossed Samson’s mind. “Why don’t you pray?”

  Jimmy’s nostrils flared and he hissed. “Don’t talk religion, Reverend. I’ve seen enough of you to know what’s going on in the church.”

  “But Jesus love—”

  Jimmy hit Samson’s head with his fist and shouted out a loud curse. “—No religious talk, Samson. Just drive.”

  As Samson drove out of the parking lot he wondered what he needed to do. Jimmy Fox had gone crazy, that much was clear. Of course, Precious would be worried if he didn’t show up with the groceries, but she had no idea where he was. His mind felt muddled, but he had to think.

  Come on, Samson. Think. He could not let Jimmy burn down Delilah’s cabin. Besides, Jimmy would probably try to blame it on him somehow. He needed to find a way out.

  “I need gasoline, Jimmy.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I need gasoline. I don’t have enough to reach the cabin.”

  Jimmy leaned forward to check the fuel gauge and saw that Samson was right. “All right, next filling station. And no monkey business. I won’t hesitate to shoot you.”

  Samson knew Jimmy meant it. “Sure, Jimmy. No monkey business.”

  Soon he saw the sign of the Almond Inn, a road restaurant with a gas station. “I am going to stop now Jimmy,” he told Jimmy in advance.

  “Remember,” Jimmy answered gruffly, “I’ve got my eyes on you.”

  Samson drove into the gas station and got out of the car at the same time Jimmy got out. The villain twitched his eye and Samson could see the bulge of the gun under his coat.” When he was done he needed to pay. “’Got to pay, Jimmy.”

  “I am coming along,” Jimmy said.

  “Hmm,” Samson said, “someone might recognize you.”

  “No problem,” Jimmy answered. “I got nothing to lose. I’ll kill everyone including you.”

  Samson anxiously muttered to himself. He’s really mad.

  As they stepped into the office, a sleepy old man looked up from his apparent nap and yawned. “Evening gentlemen.”

  “Evening, Sir.”

  The man looked at his teller. “That will be 15 Dollars.”

  “Samson pulled out some bills and handed them to the man. “Got a restroom here?”

  “Sure,” The old man answered and he pointed to the back of the office.

  Samson turned to Jimmy. “Sorry, Jimmy, but I really have to go to the toilet. I can’t think straight unless I’ve gone.”

  Jimmy growled but nodded. As Samson walked to the restroom, Jimmy followed him closely.

  “Open the door,” he whispered to Samson as they came to the restroom. “I want to make sure you can’t get out.”

  Samson shrugged his shoulders. “Suit yourself.”

  When Jimmy had decided Samson wouldn’t be able to escape, he gestured for Samson to get in. “Hurry man. I don’t have all night.”

  As soon as Samson closed the door he sighed. There was indeed no way he could escape. The tiny, smelly cubicle held no window and was barely big enough to move around in. But he had to try something. He pulled out a small notepad and his pen and scribbled a note.

  Help! I am Being kidnapped.

  Jimmy Fox wants to kill Delilah Daboya

  in her cabin. Call the police.

  Samson Jackson

  When he was done he ripped the paper from his notepad and folded it. Jimmy started to bang the door. “Hurry up, you hear me.”

  “I am coming man. Just be calm.”

  If he could get his note to that sleepy, old man, maybe he had a chance. He opened the door and Jimmy glared at him. “Let’s go.”

  Samson’s muscles tensed as they came close to the teller again. It had to happen now.

  At that moment, Samson slipped and banged into a rack full of hallmark cards and yelled out in pain. The whole rack was swaying back and forth but just didn’t tip over. For just an instant, Jimmy’s attention was diverted and from the corner of his eyes, Samson saw the bewildered look at
Jimmy’s face as he stared at the rack of cards. Samson grabbed hold of the counter to steady himself and at the same time he slipped the note to the old man. The man stared at him with a queer expression but accepted the note.

  “What did you do that for,” yelled Jimmy. His eyes shot fire and he gave Samson a push. “I said no monkey business!”

  “Calm down, man. I just slipped. Maybe the floor was wet.” Samson fired back. “I can’t help it.”

  “Whatever,” Jimmy growled. “Let’s go. We’ve got a job to do.”

  Samson’s heart jumped for joy. Jimmy Fox hadn’t seen the note. Now he could only pray the old man would read the note and call the police. As he started the car again he sighed and whispered a prayer of thanksgiving. God was going to help him. Of that, he was certain.

  Chapter 4

  Never More

  GOD WILL NEVER give you more than you can take care of.

  And Samson called unto the LORD, and said, O Lord GOD, remember me, I pray thee, and strengthen me, I pray thee, only this once, O God…

  Judges 16:28

  It must have been close to midnight when they finally arrived at Delilah’s cabin. It had been difficult to drive as it was pitch dark and although the headlights of Samson’s car pierced the darkness the road was even worse than all those years ago. But that day it had been sunny and beautiful. Now it was ominous, eerie and dark. The two had not exchanged a word anymore since they had left the gas station. All that Samson heard besides the motor was Jimmy’s labored breathing and Samson was constantly praying. Precious would probably be proud of him if she knew, but dear Precious was not here.

  But you are, God. Please lead and guide me.

  “Stop the car,” Jimmy barked when they were a small distance away from the cabin. “We’ll walk the rest of the way.”

  Samson turned off the motor.

  “Give me the key,” Jimmy ordered.

  “Why?”

  “Because I say so,” Jimmy hissed. “Now!”

  Samson handed it to him and got out. He noticed that Jimmy was carrying a metal can.

  He’s really going to burn down the cabin.

  “Jimmy…Please do not burn down the cabin. We can still go back.”

  “Quiet, you moron,” Jimmy ordered. “I am not going to burn it down. You’re going to do it.”

  “I will not do such a thing,” Samson answered. “You are going to shoot me anyway, so you may as well do it now.”

  Jimmy glared at Samson. “Walk.”

  Samson moved forward in the direction of the cabin. There it was, just as Samson remembered it. A golden sliver of moon cast an eerie light on the wooden structure. There was a sports car parked near the giant fir trees that were gently swaying with the wind. Samson considered screaming and warning Delilah, but Jimmy had that gun and he would use it. Maybe another opportunity would still arise. In the distance, Samson heard a night owl. It sounded so peaceful, but Samson knew the place was about to turn into a hellish inferno.

  God, you must do something.

  Jimmy put the can of petrol down and stared at Samson. “Well, here’s your chance to get back at the one who ruined your life.”

  Samson averted Jimmy’s gaze. “She didn’t ruin my life, Jimmy. I won’t do it.”

  Jimmy spit on the ground. “I would have expected you to be a bit more enthusiastic, but I guess that lovely wife of yours has made a Holy Joe out of you. Maybe I’ll burn her too.”

  Samson stiffened. “W-what did you say?” A wave of anger coursed through Samson’s body. That was the wrong thing to say.

  The thought of Jimmy Fox getting to Precious and Abigail was too much for Samson and something snapped inside of him. He let out a scream and threw himself on Jimmy. Although Jimmy had been waving his gun, he had not expected Samson’s outburst of anger and he took a blow right in the face and fell backward. Samson jumped right on top of him and started to beat Jimmy with his fists. The crook, however, had been through a number of fights in prison and was much better trained for such occasions than Samson and he recovered almost immediately and threw Samson off. Both men rolled in the mud. It didn’t take long for Jimmy to get the upper hand. He worked himself up on top of Samson who gurgled. Then he hissed, “You thought you could pull a fast one on me, Reverend,” Jimmy growled while he panted. Samson felt Jimmy’s spit on his face and tried to scream to warn Delilah, but no sound came. Jimmy had planted his knee with demonic force onto Samson’s chest and while he held him down he started to pummel Samson with the butt of his gun.

  Excruciating pain surged through Samson’s head as Jimmy kept beating and beating. Samson tasted blood and mud and struggled for all he was worth, but he was no match for Jimmy. Finally, Jimmy jumped off and aimed his gun at Samson.

  “Good riddance of bad rubbish. Bye Reverend. See you in hell.”

  Then he pulled the trigger.

  A dry shot reverberated through the woods and instantly there was the sound of flapping wings as countless birds flew up from the trees. A sharp pain he had never felt before shot through his body and as he glanced at the side of his body he saw blood oozing out of a strange looking wound.

  O, God…I am going to die tonight.

  Jimmy just laughed. “You’re so stupid, Reverend. I always win.” He spit on the ground and wiped the greasy hair out of his face and cursed. “Now I have to do the burning myself.”

  He grabbed the can of diesel oil and took a last look at Samson. Then he turned and walked over to the cabin and disappeared in the dark.

  Samson felt like throwing up. The world was spinning around him and everything in his body hurt. He felt like closing his eyes and just drift away. But he couldn’t. He had to stop Jimmy Fox.

  He tried to move, but it hurt so badly. When he tried to scream only a muffled, gurgling sound came out and he closed his eyes again.

  The pungent smell of diesel oil entered his nose and he knew the flames were soon to follow. When he opened his eyes he saw the first flames around the cabin already. They were still small, but as Samson watched in horror they grew bigger and bigger.

  There was Jimmy again. His face carried a strange glow and he licked his lips in anticipation. “See the fire, Reverend. It’s your fire,” he smirked. “Delilah is going to die and everyone’s going to think you did it. I went inside the cabin and knocked Delilah unconscious, but stuck the gun in her hand.” His sinister laugh was like another blow to Samson’s broken spirit. “The police will find her tomorrow with the gun… and they will find you here, and if you’re not dead already, your life will be over.”

  His demonic, cackling laughter was disturbing. Samson had never heard such a sound. Jimmy started to dance around and flapped his arms in the air. Then he chanted. “I am the god of hellfire. I make everyone burn.” When he came with his dance near Samson, he looked at him with a crazed look and kicked him in the side. Samson winced with pain.

  “That’s for betraying me, Reverend,” he hissed. He stopped his dance and knelt down near Samson. “Bye Reverend. It has been nice knowing you, but I have to go before the fire brigade arrives.”

  And…,” he thought for a moment, “… you don’t mind if I borrow your car, huh? You’re not going to need it where you’re going.” He kicked Samson one more time and disappeared in the darkness. Samson could still hear him cackling and laughing as he left.

  The whole cabin was engulfed in the inferno now and even though Samson was laying some distance away from it, it felt scorching hot. But there was that one persistent thought that kept playing in Samson’s mind.

  Delilah.

  He had to try to save her somehow. He was certain she was still alive. At first the thought surprised him. Why would he try to save her? After all, she was a witch and had deceived him…but there was no hate in Samson’s heart. It was strange, but all he could feel was the overwhelming urge to help Delilah.

  God, you’ve got to give me strength. My whole life has been a mistake. Let me do this one thing right. Help me to
save Delilah.

  In spite of the pain, he managed to lift himself up on his knees and started to crawl to the burning cabin. As he got closer, the heat became more intense, but Samson knew the cabin was small and the bedroom where Delilah was presumably lying was right near the entrance. When he came to the bottom of the stairs of the cabin he saw the leaping flames nearby and smelled his own hair that was being singed. Fear entered his heart.

  It was then that he heard the voice for the first time.

  Not audible, but it couldn’t have been louder if someone had spoken right in his ears. It was soft and yet loud. Comforting and yet demanding and with great clarity.

  Fear not for I am with you.

  Peace settled on Samson’s heart. Fear was replaced with fresh courage. God was there. God was holding him and there was nothing to fear and Samson started to crawl up the steps. He noticed there was still a small passage in between the flames. That was the way.

  When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.* There was the voice again, so comforting and so reassuring.

  God is that you?

  Move Samson, the voice said. You don’t have a whole lot of time left.

  Samson managed to get up and dragged his body onwards. There was the front door. Jimmy had left it open. The flames were so close, but Samson did not seem to feel it and stumbled into the hallway.

  Right. To the right.

  There was a door. When Samson kicked it open an enormous burning beam came shattering down, nearly missing him, but Samson went on as in a spell. In the corner, almost entirely surrounded by flames, was a bed and on it was a woman. Her head was bloody and she didn’t move.

  “Delilah! Wake up!” Samson screamed, but he had no strength and the sound of the roaring flames was so overwhelming that she wouldn’t have heard him anyway.

  Samson half crawled and stumbled through the flames to the bed and grabbed her hand and started to pull it.

  “Delilah…come on…Open your eyes.”

  She did not move.

  Kiss her forehead, came the voice.

  “What? Kiss her forehead?” But on impulse Samson trusted the voice and leaned forward and kissed Delilah’s forehead.